


in the dark and out of harm

by ThunderstormsandMemories



Series: ready or not, when the motor gets hot [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fast and the Furious Fusion, Alternate Universe - No Metaverse (Persona 5), Background Relationships, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Fast and the Furious, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/pseuds/ThunderstormsandMemories
Summary: There were few things Makoto loved more than riding her motorcycle, pulling off a well-executed heist, and kissing women.OR,Makoto and Haru participate in a high speed robbery and then kiss about it afterwards
Relationships: Niijima Makoto/Okumura Haru
Series: ready or not, when the motor gets hot [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917673
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	in the dark and out of harm

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Makoto Niijima Week 2020 (prompt: motorcycle)
> 
> Contains references to several background relationships, including background polyamory involving Makoto and Haru. HaruAnn and MakoEiko are the relationships mentioned but Makoto refers to herself as having multiple girlfriends because most of the women in the Phantom Thieves (including confidants) are dating each other in some combination. Also background mentioned PegoRyuGoro.
> 
> This is a oneshot set in the universe of/prior to my PegoRyuGoro F&F AU, and reading that is not at all necessary to understand this but if you like people being gay for the concept of driving fast and you like this you'll probably like that one too
> 
> Content warnings: lots of reckless driving, brief/non-graphic descriptions of injuries, non-graphic depictions of gun violence

There were few things Makoto loved more than riding her motorcycle, pulling off a well-executed heist, and kissing women, so leading the raid on the Phantom Thieves’ latest target alongside one of her girlfriends was pretty high up on her list of favorite activities. It was a good night for it, clouds covering the moon so that it would be too dark for the target to make out anything identifiable about any of them, enough of a chill in the spring night air that she wasn’t overheating in her helmet and her leather outfit.

It was a fairly simple job, the kind of thing they’d done at least half a dozen times before: surround the truck, detach the trailer from the cab, keep the driver distracted while they hooked up the trailer to one of their own vehicles and made their escape with the cargo. The only complication this time was that the target would be armed, which was what happened when you went after organized crime syndicates who worked with corrupt politicians: everyone had guns. Makoto did not particularly care for guns. Her fists had always been good enough for her, and if her bare knuckles weren’t going to cut it she had a set of brass ones just in case.

Makoto rode in front on her motorcycle, her eyes watering in the wind, the open road stretched out ahead of her, her engine roaring beneath her, and her crew racing behind her, and if it weren’t for the anticipation of a job to be done, she would’ve been happy for that moment to never end. But they did have a job to do, and she did love accomplishing a task that she’d set out to do, especially when it came with a little bit of danger. She stayed out in front until they drew level with the truck, and then she slowed down, just enough for Yusuke to pull ahead of the truck, cutting it off so that the driver would be forced to hit the brakes. Eiko had wanted to take that job, and Makoto had enjoyed her attempts to persuade her, mostly with kisses and flattery, but she was too new and too unpredictable for something that required a cool head and steady hands. Yusuke was more reliable, at least behind the wheel.

She was close enough to see the truck driver swear as Yusuke cut him off, and close enough to recognize the shift in his body language when he realized there were more of them, that this was a robbery and not just some asshole out for a joyride. The man in the passenger seat rolled his window down and fired two shots at Yusuke’s rear tires _—_ both misses _—_ and Makoto veered away so that she’d be well out of the way when Shinya fired back. He was an impossibly good shot, so good that Makoto and Akira had finally started letting him tag along on jobs _—_ though they still wouldn’t let him drive even though he was just barely old enough _—_ but Makoto didn’t like to take chances with that sort of thing.

While the driver and the guard were distracted, Ryuji pulled up along the other side in his convertible, top down, with Haru standing on the passenger seat, steadying herself on the windshield, a small axe in her other hand.

Makoto’s breath caught in her throat as Ryuji swerved closer, and then away, and then closer again, and Haru jumped. There was a moment, like there always was, no matter how many times they pulled this job, when Makoto was sure that Haru was going to fall. And then she caught herself on the back of the cab and gave Makoto a thumbs up, and Makoto blew her a kiss before Haru turned her attention to attaching one end of a grappling hook to the trailer before she started trying to separate it from the cab, and Makoto drifted farther away so that she could make sure everyone else was in position. Shinya and the guard were still exchanging gunfire, and Makoto winced as a bullet glanced off the side of Yusuke’s car. She knew how proud he was of his paint job, and now he’d probably have to redo it. Morgana, in his van that could withstand just about anything, was in position, with Ann leaning out the open back door, ready to catch the grappling hook line that Haru threw her.

Akira would’ve usually been the last driver on this kind of job, the one who would be ready to step in if anything went wrong, who could replace anyone else on the team if they needed to tap out, but he had to go on a _date_ with his detective boyfriend to keep him from getting even more suspicious, so Sumi was in that role instead. It wasn’t that Sumi was a bad driver, by any stretch, or that Makoto didn’t think she was up to it. It was just that she wasn’t Akira, because no one was, and she would’ve rather had him backing her up. Also, she was a little bit annoyed that Akira was still dating Akechi, and that apparently now so was Ryuji, partially because she thought it was a bad idea to date someone who was probably going to betray you, but mostly because she had never quite gotten over Akechi beating her in a race the first time they met.

It wasn’t just that he’d beaten her; she didn’t win every race, after all, even though she won most of them unless she was racing against her own crew, and she was better on her bike than in a car anyway. It was the way he looked right past her, like she wasn’t good enough for him to take seriously as a rival. Whatever. It was fine. She wasn’t bitter. She didn’t care what he thought, and she didn’t need his good opinion.

“Cops up ahead,” said Futaba, her voice clear over Makoto’s earpiece from wherever she’d parked her car and all of its glorious scanning technology to act as their lookup. “ETA five minutes. Better get that transfer done stat.”

Haru nodded, even though Futaba couldn’t see her _—_ probably, but Makoto didn’t think there were any security cameras out here in the middle of nowhere for her to look through _—_ and tossed the line to Ann, who caught it easily in one hand, blew Haru a kiss with the other, and then began clipping it onto the van as Haru set to work with her axe. The truck swerved as the driver realized what was happening and tried to shake her off, but Sumi, Ryuji, and Yusuke had him boxed in, and Haru was a professional, with years of high-end ballet lessons as a child that left her with very good balance. She also really knew how to handle an axe, which was a little bit intimidating but also incredibly hot.

There was a spray of sparks and a loud clang as Haru hacked through the coupling keeping the trailer attached, and the cab lurched from the sudden change in weight, but Haru braced herself and hung on.

“We’re good to go!” said Ann, and Morgana began to pull away, his van a lot faster than it looked even with the extra cargo.

“Right on time,” said Futaba, and Ryuji yelled something that was probably _hell yeah_ but was lost to the roaring of the engines and the static on the mic that he never set up properly, even though it drove Futaba to distraction every time.

And then Makoto nodded to Haru, and Haru nodded back, and Makoto brought her motorcycle in closer, so close that if she wavered even a little bit her bike would be crushed under the truck’s massive tires. She kept her eyes firmly on the road in front of her, on maintaining control of her bike with the kind of exact control that she could only access at ninety miles per hour with adrenaline flooding her veins, and out of the corner of her vision she could see Haru sizing up the gap, steeling herself to make the jump. And then she swung herself down onto the back of Makoto’s motorcycle, her arms tight around Makoto’s torso and her chin resting on Makoto’s shoulder, and Makoto revved her engine and started to peel away from the truck. The passenger threw his door open, trying to hit her with it, probably hoping to knock her off the bike, but she reached out and shoved the door closed again, hard, directly on his hand. Probably not hard enough to break any fingers, but hopefully painful enough that it would throw off his aim when he tried to shoot at her.

She looked back over her shoulder just once as she and Haru sped away into the night, just to make sure that everyone was making their escape safely, and also to see the breathless grin on Haru’s face _—_ a mirror of the expression on Makoto’s own _—_ the delight in her eyes obvious even though the visor of her helmet and the mask covering the lower half of her face. God, Makoto loved her so much.

Makoto took an exit a few miles down the road and pulled off into a stand of trees that would conceal them from the road, just in case the cops came this way on their search for the dastardly criminals who had so cruelly robbed the poor innocent truck drivers of the cargo they were knowingly transporting for corrupt politicians and exploitative CEOs. She stopped the bike and jumped off, holding her hands out to help Haru dismount like she was a fancy lady in a period drama. In some ways, if you were being cynical, Haru was the modern equivalent of that, or at least she used to be.

Haru had run away from home shortly before her father’s murder, after discovering some of his more unethical business practices and getting into a nasty argument about both the way he was treating his workers and her own impending marriage, an arrangement that had been made as part of yet another underhanded business deal. She’d run into the Phantom Thieves while doing some investigating of her own, trying to find out just how deep her father’s corruption ran, and Makoto had taken an instant liking to her. She was beautiful, of course, and she’d been so naive back then, but there was a fierce core of idealism to her that Makoto had respected immediately, and Makoto remembered how naive she’d been herself, when she first joined the crew.

She’d just dropped out of university in her final year, mere months from graduation, overwhelmed by the workload for a degree she no longer wanted, and couldn’t even remember why she’d wanted it so badly in the first place. She was depressed and lost and desperate and reckless, looking for something, anything, to fill the hole in her chest that academia had torn out, to find any sort of purpose. She also needed money, because she was too proud to ask Sae for anything and too ashamed to admit to her that she’d dropped out, too afraid of her reaction, too afraid that she would be rejected, cut off for daring to tarnish the image of the perfect family that Sae was convinced she needed for her career. The Thieves had saved her from getting caught in a scam that she wouldn’t have been able to get herself out of, and. Well. She’d always been a pretty good driver, and she was stubborn enough that Akira had to give her a chance to impress him. And then they’d stolen a shipment of motorcycles destined for some asshole rich kid, and Makoto had fallen in love.

By the time she gathered up her courage enough to talk to Sae, she didn’t need her help anymore, and she only met up with her once before realizing that their chosen lives were incompatible with having any sort of regular contact. Makoto missed her, to be sure, but she missed the person she used to be, before she decided she’d rather have a career than a sister. But Makoto had a new family now.

She sat on the ground beside Haru, both of their helmets off, flexing her hand, stiff and sore where she’d slammed that door closed. Nothing felt broken, but she could already see a colorful bruise blossoming up across her knuckles when she stripped her gloves off. It hadn’t even hurt until now, as she was looking at it.

“You were amazing,” she said to Haru. “I love watching you work.” Haru was so sweet most of the time, with her soft curves and shy smiles, and a wicked sense of humor that was surprising unless you really knew her, and an absolute terror behind the wheel or with a weapon in her hand, and Makoto loved her for all of it.

“Thanks, babe,” said Haru, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, leaving behind a waxy lilac stain. She wore lipstick on heists, even though her mouth was covered for all of the actual job, and Makoto loved that about her too. Makoto didn’t wear lipstick, partially because she couldn’t be bothered and partially because she didn’t want to ruin whatever colors Haru chose, but she’d gotten in the habit of wearing too much eyeliner around the time she’d dropped out, and she still liked the way it made her look, especially paired with her leather jacket and her hair cropped short: dangerous, edgy, nothing like the uncertain goody two-shoes she’d been at school.

“How’s your knee?” she said, and Haru snatched her hand away from where she was massaging her leg.

“I’ll live,” she said. “I just banged it a little bit when I made the second jump but I’ll ice it when I get home.”

“If you say so,” Makoto said, already standing up to get the first aid kit from the back of her bike. “Or you could ice it now.”

“Oh, if you insist,” said Haru, but she accepted the ice pack when Makoto handed it to her and pressed it to her knee with a grimace. “Thank you.” And then, with a mischievous smile, because she knew she was calling Makoto out: “What about your hand?”

Makoto sighed and showed Haru the damage, because she knew there was no stopping her from fussing, any more than Haru could stop her from fussing over her. Haru held her hand tenderly as she examined it, declared it a sprain, and set about wrapping it so that Makoto didn’t damage it any further on the ride home. When she was done, she raised Makoto’s hand to her lips and brushed a gentle kiss to her bandaged fingers, and Makoto’s heart ached more than her hand did. “Thank you, darling,” Makoto said.

“Any time,” said Haru, lacing their uninjured hands together, and then reaching up to run her hand through Makoto’s hair, already a mess from being shoved underneath her helmet, and pulling her into a kiss, and Makoto opened her mouth to Haru’s, pulse racing like an engine.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Summertime by My Chemical Romance, because this AU is dedicated to the Danger Days album
> 
> Come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/selkie_au_lover) where I have lots of feelings about Persona 5, the entire Fast & Furious franchise, and being gay and doing crimes! Also if you like this AU and wanna see more of it leave me a comment to motivate me to post the last chapter of the other fic! (I'm gonna do that eventually anyway and also I'm gonna write more in this AU whether other people want it or not because I love a Fast and Furious AU and no one can stop me but validation is always good, y'know?)


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